From the Ashes
by Kitsu Maxwell
Summary: In one seriously bad night everything is taken from Danny, his friends, his family... All gone. All thanks to Voldemort and his death eaters. Now he's being placed under the protection of the Order of the Phoenix and he must learn to cope with his new life and maybe collect a little revenge on the side. Warning: There will be slash (boy x boy relations) in future chapters.
1. A Beautiful Night

**Disclaimer: Danny Phantom and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators. Not me.**

**Warnings: This story contains character death and there is a possibility of slash (boy x boy relations) in future chapters.**

**Ok, so I decided to try my hand at fanfiction. I know, scary huh? I know there are lots of DP/HP crossovers floating around already, but I wanted to see what I could do with it. I have no idea where it's going right now. I kinda just sat down and started writing… I might try to work in some slash later if I end up going anywhere with this. Well, if I haven't scared you off by now, then please, read on!~**

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Chapter 1: A Beautiful Night

It had been such a beautiful night. Really it had. The sky was so clear and the stars were all shining so brightly, accentuating a semi-full, yet luminous moon. The winds were calm and fairly cool for being late summer. It would have been a perfect night to go flying, to cast off his every day worries and just drift for a while. The ghosts had even been laying off him lately, allowing the free time to indulge in such a care free past time. Danny should have known that something bad was going to happen. That was the way of things. Just his luck it seemed. Sometimes he thought he just wasn't meant to be happy since every time he came close to being content with his life, something happened to screw it all up. No one could have predicted, however, that things would go quite as badly as they had.

Thinking back on it, Danny wondered if there had been anything he could have done to prevent what had happened. Perhaps if he'd been more observant, perhaps if he'd been faster or stronger or perhaps if he'd simply been somewhere else at the time… Perhaps if he'd just done something or been something different… Then they'd still be alive.

Tears mixed with the blood running down his face, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. He ducked down behind some greenery beside some stair off of someone's front porch, wedging himself into the small space and hoping the shadows would conceal him well enough as he tried desperately to catch his breath. He couldn't stay in one place for very long. If he did, then they'd find him. He wasn't sure how they kept finding him, but they did. He shifted, getting ready to bolt for the next hidey hole he could find.

A loud crack sounded through the air on the street just beyond his current hiding spot, causing him to still and press himself back to his original position. His breath froze in his lungs and he could swear even his heart ceased it's beating for a moment, so still was the silence. They'd found him again. He'd lingered here too long. A tremor coursed through his deceptively small frame as he snuck a glance through the branches that hid him from sight. The night was well lit by the moon and stars, illuminating the street in a pale glow. He could easily see three figures standing in the road, cloaked in black robes and faces hidden by white masks. It was impossible to tell age or gender without hearing them speak, but one thing had become very clear from the get go. These people were not ghosts. They lacked the distinctive glow of all things ectoplasmic and, if Danny were capable of using his powers just then, he knew that his ghost sense would be woefully inactive.

These people had come from seemingly nowhere, attacking anyone who saw them with long sticks that spouted deadly lights of varying colors and saying very little aside from the shouts that initiated their attacks. He'd tried to fight them. He'd managed to do very little, however, before they'd struck him with something that had seemed to completely short out his powers. Try as he might he just couldn't get a grasp on that cold power in the back of his chest that he associated with his ghost half. It was still there, he could feel it, but there was something separating him from it, something preventing him from making contact with it. He'd been completely helpless then. Completely helpless as those people had begun attacking those around him.

Tucker had fallen first, taking a hit from a green blast as they'd been running away. Danny and Sam had immediately turned back to pick him up and continue running. They'd managed to make it to Fentonworks, thinking to arm themselves with whatever they could from the weapons vault, before they'd realized he was dead. A chill had taken over his body then. He vaguely recalled hearing Sam scream. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he struggled to take in the fact that his best friend was gone, taken away from him by some strange men with their weird sticks.

Everything had gone to hell after that. Jazz and his parents had woken up, rushing downstairs to see what all the screaming was about. Danny hadn't known what to say to them, couldn't explain the dead boy on their living room floor, the boy that Danny had known for most of his life that was now cold and still right in front of them. He could only stare at them in numb horror as they tried to figure out what was going on. Sam was still freaking out, though she'd stopped screaming by then. Then the door had exploded open, taking everyone by surprise. The ensuing battle had been short, scales tipped in favor of the masked people by the brief moment of confusion upon their entry. Danny had fought, but he hadn't been good enough. He hadn't been strong enough or fast enough. And, as a result, people had died. People he loved had died.

Jazz, ever the intelligent one, had figured out what they were after in that brief scuffle, having heard something or inferred something about the enemy's actions, and had grabbed Danny and ran, leaving behind the bodies of their parents and Danny's two closest friends. It boggled Danny's mind that his sister could keep such a level head in this situation when he was trying so hard to keep it together and failing miserably, but one look at her face told him that she wasn't as together as she was pretending to be. The only reason she hadn't broken down completely was because she was pushing her protectiveness over her little brother to its limits. Jazz Fenton couldn't afford to fall apart when there were murdering psychopaths after her baby brother.

They hadn't come out of it unscathed. Jazz was favoring her right leg and Danny had taken a hit to the head. They hadn't managed to grab a single weapon before they'd fled the house. There was no plan besides simply trying to put as much distance between themselves and the black robed, white masked crazies. What could they possibly do besides run? Danny was without his powers and fighting off nausea from what had to be a concussion, inflicted when he'd been knocked back into the heavy coffee table in their now devastated living room. He wasn't sure what had happened to Jazz's leg but she wasn't moving as quickly as he knew she should have been able to and he had no doubt that if it came to a fight she would be so much dead meat. He'd needed to get it together. He'd needed to protect his sister. He'd needed to protect his town. If these people were after him, then there was only one thing he could think to do.

He'd acted before he had the chance to second guess himself, striking at his sister's head with a determined fist. She'd crumpled to the ground, unconscious, cut off in the middle of her hurried, muttering as she'd tried futilely to form a plan of escape. If she wasn't with him, he rationalized, then she would be safe. He'd already lost everyone else. He couldn't lose her too. She was all that mattered now. Quickly, he'd tugged her over to what he'd deemed a safe enough hiding place amongst some bushes in the park. He'd given her a last, lingering hug and a short kiss to the top of her head, whispering apologies before he'd forced himself away from her. She would be safe there, safe from the people who were out to get him. He didn't have much hope of actually getting away from them, but he had to try. For his sister, he had to try.

And try he had, but it seemed like he was only playing some twisted game of cat and mouse. The only plan he'd had was to avoid other people, but he'd failed at even that. He'd been corralled somehow at every turn, pushing him into what he knew to be a trap. When he hid, they'd find him. When he ran, they'd fire on him, caring nothing for the homes that were destroyed along the way. Hope was being leached away with every casualty that was the direct result of nothing more than his presence.

Which brought him to where he was now, trembling in his hiding place with both fear and exhaustion, staring out at three members of the group of murderers who were after him, murderers who had taken his power, his friends, and his family away from him for some unknown goal. His fists clenched, short nails biting into the skin of his palms and his shaking grew more pronounced with his anger. His eyes screwed shut and his teeth ground together. He wanted so badly to fight, but he was powerless. They would take him down before he even got close enough to strike. He choked on a frustrated sob, the dry raspy noise immediately drawing the attention of one of the black robed people, it's white masked face jerking to look in the direction of Danny's hiding place. The boy's eyes blew wide and his hands covered his mouth, horrified that he may have given away his hiding place.

"Stop your running, boy. Make this easier on yourself." The voice was not one he recognized. It was masculine, that of a middle aged man. The voice was smooth as silk and cold. Though the voice itself was unfamiliar, it held a condescending note to it that reminded him heavily of Vlad.

The man who'd spoken took slow, measured steps towards Danny, the scuffing of hard soled shoes on pavement going quiet as he came to the grass of the yard between them. Danny's heart thudded painfully in his chest, it's normally slow rhythm picking up to a pace he hadn't felt since he'd been fully alive. In that moment he knew that he was going to be caught. He knew that he was not going to be able to get away from the encounter this time. What the hell had come over him to think wedging himself into a corner was a good idea? Even if just to hide? Well, if he was going down, then he was going down fighting. The moment that man came within his range he would attack. Even if all he would accomplish would be to bloody the bastard's nose, it would be worth it.

Eyes narrowing in fearful determination he slowly tensed and quietly shifted into a fighting position. Just a few more steps now. The man was raising that stick of his. Would Danny be able to move quickly enough before the man got off a shot? Well, there was only one way to find out.

Danny was moments away from leaping at his attacker when a sudden loud crack rent the air a second time in that area. There were suddenly three more people on the scene. They weren't wearing the black robes or white masks that the others were, but the wielded the same sticks. The black robed people were slow to react and it was just enough to give the newcomers the edge as a battle broke out. Danny took this opportunity to dart out of his hiding spot to try to get away. A hand caught at the back of his t-shirt, jerking him to a stop before he heard yet another loud crack and then he felt the strangest sensation of being forced through a narrow tube. It felt like his nose was touching the back of his head and his own elbow was jammed against the back of his knee.

The world came back into sharp focus a moment later and he fell to the ground gasping. That had to have been the oddest thing he had ever felt, and he had once sprouted several heads and strange limbs from his shoulder!

"Come along young man! We must hurry!" A slightly hoarse sounding voice urgently called from his side as a hand once again jerked him around by his shirt, this time jerking him to his feet. A quick glance told Danny that this man was not one of the robed men. He looked fairly scruffy and all together too worn and almost ill looking to be exhibiting the strength that he was. His hair was a dirty brown color with the moonlight catching at more than a few silvering hairs. His clothes were dirty and patched. All in all he could have easily been mistaken as some random homeless man on a street corner somewhere. All he needed was a cardboard sign.

"W-what's going on? Who are you people? Who were those creeps in the black robes?" He stuttered out his questions jerkily as he was tugged along. It was getting a little irritating how this guy kept manhandling him. He was pretty sure it was better than what the black robed guys would have done, though, he was sure, so he didn't comment on it, simply trying to keep up so he wouldn't be dragged.

"Now's not the time, lad," the man muttered, hurrying up a set of steps to what looked like a pretty broken down house in one of the more destitute areas of Amity Park. "We must get you to safety first. There will be time enough for questions later."

"So you're here to help me then? Where were you half an hour ago when you would have actually done some good?!" Danny shouted, ignoring the man's efforts to shush him as he began to struggle to get out of his grasp. "My mom! My dad! My friends! They're all _dead_!" With a violent jerk he managed to tear himself away from the older man, stumbling back against a dust covered wall as tears sprung anew to his already red and puffy eyes.

The man looked torn, an expression of such heartfelt sadness on his haggard face that Danny couldn't help but feel some of his anger drain away.

"I'm so sorry, but we really must go." He insisted, but made no move to grab at the distraught boy again. "Those men are after you. If we don't leave immediately then they will be upon us within moments. They've placed a tracking spell on you and we must get it removed as quickly as we can."

He ignored the stab of pain at the reminder that those men were here for him. That this was all his fault. That people were _dead_ because...

"A s-spell?" Danny asked in confusion, shoving his other thoughts aside to be dealt with later. The only experience he'd ever had with magic was his encounters with Desiree, but she was a ghost! People couldn't use magic… Could they?

"As I said, now is not the time nor the place for questions. If you would please come with me? Quickly now!" The man offered his hand, voice laced with urgency and eyes pleading for Danny to accept his help.

"What about my sister?" Danny asked hopefully, not wanting to leave her behind if help was being offered.

"We'll send someone to look for her, but it is you they are after. It is you who must get to safety right now."

Danny hesitated only a moment more before reaching out to take the larger hand with his slightly smaller one. Immediately he was pulled further into the house until they reached what seemed to be the living room. He was led over to the large fire place where the man pulled a small pouch out of his pocket. He reached into it for a bit of what looked like some sort of dust or powder before throwing the powder into the fire place with a jerky motion. Danny flinched back as green fire erupted in the fireplace. The man made to step into the flames and Danny jerked back.

"What are you doing?" Danny asked, alarmed.

"Please, just trust me. It won't burn you." The man answered, tugging insistently again just as a loud crack sounded from outside. Danny's eyes darted fearfully towards the sound then back towards the green fire in front of him. He took a deep, steadying breath.

"Ok, yeah, sure. Whatever you say dude." He responded before quickly stepping forward along side the older man.

The next few minutes were spent, for lack of a better term, fire place hopping. The strange man had said something about floo networks being monitored and confusing the tracking spell, or something like that, in way of explanation. Eventually they'd come to yet another run down looking house where they'd found an old glove resting on the only piece of furniture there, an old, dusty coffee table. When they'd picked it up the man had muttered something before there was a strange jerking sensation felt around the area of his belly button. Danny thought he was going to be sick. For the second time that night he found himself falling to his knees after a very strange ride.

"Maniacs with magic killing sticks, fire that doesn't burn, and now old gloves that teleport you and make you want to throw up…" Danny muttered, holding his heaving stomach weakly as he slowly climbed to his feet. "Tonight's just full of wonderful surprises, isn't it…" Sarcasm. Wonderful coping mechanism.

"I've one more surprise for you I'm afraid." The man said with an apologetic look and held out a piece of paper. "I need you to read this over, then I need to to think about it."

Danny took the paper. It read _The Order of the Phoenix can be found at number 12 Grimauld Place, London. _He looked up at the building before him numbered eleven and thirteen. "But there is no-… Wait, I'm in _London_?!" His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he looked over at the strange man next to him, then they bugged out even more as he noticed a building popping up out of no where and pushing numbers eleven and thirteen to either side to make room. "This is it isn't it. I've finally gone crazy. Or this is some seriously messed up dream… But I didn't think my mind was this creative." He muttered despondently as he was guided up the steps to the front door after the little piece of paper had been burned with a flick of the man's stick.

Using his magic stick once more, Danny's strange savior tapped at the front door. Several clicks and sliding noises could be heard before the door opened to allow them inside the dusty old building. Danny thought he could see a trend in the places he'd been taken to that night. The inside was dark and smelled musty. He was then led to a dimly lit room that he could just make out to be a kitchen. There was an old man sitting at the table. A really old man, Danny decided once he'd gotten a better look at him. He was wearing robes like the crazies who'd tried to kill him, but his robes were of a softer color. He couldn't be sure in this lighting but he thought it might have been light blue or lilac. The man's beard was long enough to be tucked into his belt, his nose long and slightly crooked beneath a pair of half moon glasses. Vivid blue eyes shone from beneath bushy white eyebrows kindly.

"Hello, you must be the young man the death eaters were so anxious to apprehend. My name is Albus Dumbledore. Lets see to that little tracking spell and then I'm sure you have some questions for me."

And the night had been so beautiful to start with…

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**So? What do you think? Ok for a first try? So terrible you want to smack me? While I would prefer you not outright insult me (I'm kinda sensitive) I would love to hear your opinion! I'm aware that my writing style leaves a bit to be desired, but I won't learn if I don't put myself out there and gather some critique, right? If anyone wants to see a second chapter to this, please tell me. If anyone has any ideas for where this could possibly go, I'd love to hear those too! And if there are any slash pairings you'd really like to see, I'll take that into account as well. I'm leaning towards one pairing in particular at the moment, but I'm not really set on it yet. **


	2. A Gray Morning

**Disclaimer: Yup. I still don't own anything. I barely own this plot line. :P**

**Warnings: No death here, but it is kinda depressing I guess. There will be slash (boy x boy relations) in future chapters.**

**Hello and thank you to everyone who reviewed, fav'd, and/or followed this story! You people are amazing for my poor withered ego! X3 This chapter didn't end up quite as long as I wanted it and certain sections gave me a fair bit of trouble, but here it is! Hopefully the next chapter won't be so difficult. v.v And for anyone who was wondering, I have decided which pairing I'll be going with! I'll leave it as a surprise for now though.~ I also kida/sorta know where I'm going with this now. Go me! And now, without any further ado, I give you chapter 2!**

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Chapter 2: A Gray Morning

When Danny woke up the next day it was with the vague hope and almost expectation to see little glow in the dark stars on a pale blue ceiling; Something familiar. Something to let him know things were still normal and that that night had just been a really bad dream. What his tired eyes were greeted with instead, however, was a drab gray ceiling that might have at one point been white. A glance around showed the rest of the dim room to be of the same color pallet with moth eaten curtains doing their best to keep the muted light of a cloudy day out of the time beaten room. He returned his gaze to the ceiling with the flat look of one who didn't want to think about anything. To think about it would be to make it real, and if it were real then that would mean… That would mean that he was alone now. His parents and friends were gone and his sister was missing…

Despite his desire to not think about anything, the thoughts and memories came streaming in from last night. The memory of stiff, dead bodies falling to the floor of his living room tried to surface, but Danny pushed it back, resolutely denying his morbid mind the chance to pick over those details. Instead he focused on the conversation he'd had once he'd come to number twelve Grimauld Place. Dumbledore had sat with him for more than an hour, answering only some of his questions and bringing up many more in the course of the conversation. From what he'd been able to gather, some evil, murdering megalomaniac dark wizard (and apparently wizards really do exist and those magic sticks were actually wands) found out about him all the way from Britain. He'd found out both how powerful he was and _what_ he was (and how had that even _happened_?!) and had decided that he would be an invaluable asset to his side of the war. It was a vague explanation at best. Dumbledore hadn't been all that clear about anything. Danny wasn't even sure if Dumbledore knew himselfwhat the dark lord wanted with him and was just being vague or if he was just as in the dark as the rest of them. For all Danny knew that evil wizard could want him as some sort of magic battery or something. Whatever the reason was, it meant that a dark over lord was out to get him and this Order of the Phoenix, of which Dumbledore was apparently the leader, had decided to take him in and protect him. It might have only been to keep him from bolstering the fire power of the bad guy, but the whole rescue and protect thing was still pretty well appreciated.

Those psycho murderers with the bad horror movie serial killer uniforms were called death eaters, he'd been told, and they were pretty much Mr. Big, Bad and Evil's henchmen. They'd been sent to collect him and kill whoever got in the way. Or whoever witnessed them being there. Or really anyone they saw. Death eaters apparently weren't all that picky about whom they killed. Well, no, scratch that; they apparently liked other wizards and witches who were from long lines of well known or well thought of wizarding families, or 'purebloods' as they were commonly called. Elitist jerks. Their 'I like you' list was apparently pretty short and it didn't include the likes of Danny's family and closest friends.

The bed squeaked quietly as Danny turned onto his side, curling slightly into himself and clenching his eyes shut as the dull ache in his insides narrowed into a sharp pain in his chest, his stomach roiling unpleasantly. His family was gone. His friends were gone. Somehow the pain seemed so much worse today than it had last night. Maybe that was because it had had some time to actually sink in. Or maybe the light of day just made it all the more real. There would be no more Dad and his crazy inventions, good intentions, awkward father/son chats with well meaning advice, or bone crushing hugs. There would be no more Mom and her confused yet concerned glances in the morning after a late night of ghost fighting, strange yet delicious cookies, reanimated ghostly dinners, or uniquely warm and comforting arms to hold him when he needed it most. There would be no more Tucker with his tech obsession, lame come ons, strange sense of humor, or stinky cologne. There would be no more Sam with her exceedingly unique outlook on life, dry wit, biting sarcasm, late night flights with her pressed tightly against his side, or her tendency to always have his back no matter what.

And Jazz… He didn't even know if she was ok or not. His fists clenched against the threadbare sheets as he thought about his sister. Someone had indeed been sent for her, as promised, but she hadn't been found. No one knew if she were alive or dead and it had taken every ounce of will power he possessed as well as a great deal of logic from Dumbledore to persuade him not to zoom off and go looking for her, evil murdering wizards be damned. Hell, he was _still_ fighting the urge to go look for her. She was all he had left now and he needed her to be here with him! He was told that they'd keep looking, but it provided little to no comfort…

Aside from the possibility that Jazz was still breathing he was well and truly alone now and it _hurt. _Not only that but now he was also thrown into this whole different world where he knew almost nothing about everything and the crazy evil dude was more than willing to kill people to get to him this time. The only reason he wasn't in Voldemort's clutches this very instant was because someone had managed to tip off the order. (Dumbledore hadn't elaborated on who had tipped them off, only that it had been a highly trusted source.) Danny might not have cared so much at this point if old Voldy had been out to kill him or something, but that's not what the bad guy had in mind. No, Voldemort wanted to use him to further his whole world domination and muggle (non magic people according to wizards) purging agenda. Being a forced accessory to mass murder was not very high on Danny's 'to do' list. In fact it was probably listed right beneath becoming Vlad's little pet son and assisting _him _with world domination.

Cracking his eyes back open to stare bleakly across the room, Danny wondered if Voldemort knew anything about the older half ghost. Danny had always been far more visible as far as the public eye went when it came to his ghost half. He'd also always been far more abnormal seeing as how he went out of his way to be selfless and heroic, a very non-ghost-like quality. Vlad would blend with the rest of the ghostly population much more easily in his ghost form and he'd always been good at keeping his nose clean in his human form, so it was unlikely that Voldemort knew anything about him. Right? Danny was still unclear what the dark lord wanted with a halfa in the first place but in his experience it was never good to let the bad guy get what he wanted. Danny decided that as long as talk of other halfas didn't come up, he would say nothing. The fewer people who knew about Vlad, the less likely the chance of Voldemort learning about him.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted Danny's musings.

"Hello? Danny, are you awake, dear? I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready. You really should come down and eat…" A kindly female voice called from the other side of the door, trailing off awkwardly. She sounded like she was probably an older woman. A mother most likely, given the way she talked. Danny felt a painful squeeze on his heart when the thought brought to mind his own mother who he'd last seen cold and dead on the floor just that night. She wouldn't have liked it if Danny shut himself away in his room and didn't eat. It was so difficult to want to get out of bed, though… Everything hurt. He felt sick to his stomach and the way his chest kept constricting he was sure he could burst into tears at any given moment, even though he could have sworn he'd cried himself dry last night the moment he'd been left to himself. Eventually he'd worn himself out enough to drift into an uneasy sleep, but it hadn't lasted long. The results were a bit less than pretty. He might even still have blood in his hair. Could he really allow other people, people he didn't even know, to see him like this?

When he gave no response after a few minutes the woman knocked and encouraged him to come down for breakfast once more before hesitating steps were heard making their way away from his door.

It was the thought that he might get more info on Jazz that had him making up his mind. There was also the faint possibility that Dumbledore had made some headway on that spell that had knocked out his powers too, he reasoned. Turns out that the spell they used for that had been some seriously complicated stuff; parts of it custom made just for him. He'd been told it would likely take quite a bit of time to lift that spell, though, so he didn't feel too optimistic about that.

The bed gave an almighty squeak of protest as he levered himself upright, shoved the thin gray blankets to the side, and pushed himself to his feet. This house could really use a good interior decorator, he decided as he got a better look at his surroundings. The color palette was definitely leaving much to be desired. But then again, maybe gray hadn't been the intended color scheme. Some things had a little bit of a tint to them, suggesting that they, at one time, were not gray. Perhaps time had faded the brilliance of what might have been a really nice room at one point. Or maybe the dust had just sunken into everything and dyed it in drabness… It certainly felt like the dust was trying to seep into him. Making him feel dried out and brittle, like the slightest touch or even breeze could crumble him into nothing.

With a sigh at his own melodramatic thoughts (though wasn't he entitled to them at this point?) he pushed a hand through his messy hair in an effort to straighten it a bit then made his way across the creaking floor boards and out of the room before padding lightly down the stairs to the kitchen. The room itself hadn't changed much in the hours he'd been away from it aside from gaining a bit more brightness and an inviting smell of sausage and eggs. That and the occupants of the room were widely different as well. Ok so maybe the room had changed a bit. It was amazing the difference some light, some decent smells, and some life could make.

The man who'd rescued him last night was sitting at the table, Remus Lupin he'd said his name was, and he was speaking in low tones with another man who was gaunt looking with long, shaggy black hair and dark eyes. Also at the table were three teens - a black haired boy with glasses, a tall, gangly red-headed boy, and a girl with the bushiest brown hair he'd ever seen - who were off to the side eating slowly and seeming to lean towards the two adults at the table like they were trying to inconspicuously eaves drop on the quiet conversation. Danny raised a brow at the strange behavior but put the observation down as something to worry about later.

The black haired boy's gaze rose briefly from his food and green eyes locked onto ice blue. Danny had a moment of feeling completely out of place under that searching, almost suspicious look from the other boy. He fidgeted nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and wondered if coming down to breakfast had actually been a really bad idea.

"Who are you?" The boy asked bluntly, almost rudely, eyes narrowed behind his round glasses.

The question got the attention of the others in the room and before he had a chance to answer, Lupin was smiling at him gently and answering for him. "Danny! It's good to see you up and about. I was worried that…" His voice trailed off for a moment before he continued with an almost forced cheer. "Sirius, this is the boy I was telling you about." He addressed the man next to him before turning his attention back to its original target. "Danny, why don't you have a seat and have some breakfast? Molly here is a fantastic cook."

"Oh would you have a look at you!" came a voice from the other side of the room, startling him and causing him to jerk, wide eyes coming to rest on the homely face of an older red-headed woman that he hadn't noticed before. "You're naught but skin and bones! So thin! Well, we'll just have to fix that." And before he knew what had happened he'd been ushered to a seat and had a full plate of food placed in front of him with a fork in his hand.

"Um, t-thank you..." he stuttered, trailing off uncertainly.

"Molly Weasley, dear, and just eat what you can. I can imagine you might not have much of an appetite after…" She wrung her hands in an upset manner, her eyes going watery all of a sudden, putting the lie to her cheerful manner of just seconds before and showing clearly that she had been filled in on just why he was there and what had happened, unlike the teens who'd been watching the scene curiously since they'd noticed him.

Not wanting to delve into the events of last night at all, Danny quickly took a bite of the eggs he'd been given. "Mr. Lupin's right. You're an awesome cook." He complimented once he'd swallowed, forcing a smile that he hoped came off as at least a little reassuring. She gave a weak smile back and he knew he hadn't been convincing at all, but she was willing to drop the subject anyway.

"Well, there's plenty more so help yourself." She offered before returning to her place at the other side of the room where she seemed to be washing dishes with her wand, waving the length of wood in a practiced motion as the mess seemed to clean itself. Magic. That would take some getting used to.

"Danny is it?" The dark haired boy asked with a slightly narrowed gaze, prompting the addressed boy to return his attention to him. "Just what are you doing here? You _can't_ be a member of the order…"

Danny shrunk down in his seat a bit and pushed at the eggs on the plate with his fork. _'And here come the questions.'_ He though sullenly. As he lowered his eyes to his food uncomfortably he missed the sharp look the bushy haired girl gave the dark haired boy. He did not, however, miss her scolding words.

"Harry! We haven't even introduced ourselves yet!"

'Harry' had the decency to look a tiny bit ashamed before Lupin cut back into the conversation.

"Quite right Hermoine, I do believe introductions are in order. Danny, these three are Ron Weasley-" the red head lifted a hand in an unenthusiastic greeting, "-Hermione Granger-" the girl smiled pleasantly and chimed "It's a pleasure." "-And Harry Potter." Lupin finished as Harry just continued to watch him with seemingly resigned expectation. When Danny didn't respond in any way to Harry's name his look morphed into one of vaguely surprised confusion, like he'd expected some sort of recognition. Danny frowned almost imperceptibly at that before Lupin continued.

"And my friend here is-"

"Sirius Black." The man next to Lupin interrupted before extending a hand over the table. Danny hesitantly reached to take it and shook once up and down. Sirius raised a brow at the cold temperature of his grip but said nothing about it, opting instead to give him a small, slightly skewed smile. "I'm also the owner of this run down monstrosity some would call a house." Danny quirked a small grin back at him and decided he liked Sirius.

"Everyone, this is Danny Fenton. Due to some… Extenuating circumstances, he'll be staying with us at the order for a while." Danny winced at the entirely inadequate explanation and knew the others wouldn't leave that alone. His gaze returned to his plate of mostly untouched food and he poked at it again.

"Extenuating circumstances?" Asked Hermione, "What sort of circumstances would bring an American boy to the Order?" She asked Lupin. Her voice held a note of incredulity with a strong hit of curiosity, her expression matching her tone.

"Yeah, I can understand Harry and the rest of us. We _deserve_ to be here. But what's so special about _him_?" Danny didn't like Ron's accusing tone and if not for his powers being blocked off at the moment then his eyes surely would have flashed green.

"Sorry I'm not _special _enough to _deserve_ to be here!" Danny growled scathingly, aiming a frigid glare at the other boy, some of the anger at his situation bleeding through to be vented on the red-head, "I promise you, if I could change the events that led to me coming here I _would_!" His voice rose a bit at the last word as he slammed his fork down on the table.

"Don't go yelling at Ron! It was a perfectly reasonable question!" Harry retorted, defending his best friend.

"It was a perfectly jerky way to ask it too! Maybe he doesn't _deserve_ an answer!" Danny returned even more heatedly. Deep down he knew he was being petty. He knew he shouldn't be flying off the handle like this. But all of the pain and anger that had been simmering just beneath the surface had been poked and provoked and now that he had a target, even if it was more of the convenient sort than the deserving, he was ready to lash out however he could.

"Now, I don't think either of you are being quite fair-" Hermione tried to interject only to be cut off by Danny's angry shout of "_Nothing about this is fair_!" His fists sat clenched on the table top, his body shaking visibly as he tried to get a handle on himself. No one had anything to say to that. Ron and Harry wore shocked expressions. Hermione looked a bit lost. Lupin just looked sad and Sirius was looking away with a dark expression on his face. Over by the sink, Molly, who had turned, ready to cut in herself to stop the arguing, had gone still, tears lingering in her wide eyes.

Danny took a calming breath and let it out shakily, deflating a bit as he did so. "Nothing about this is _fair_…" He repeated, this time quietly but with no less feeling. This whole situation was completely screwed up! His life had already been complicated; Bullies, falling grades, frequent detentions and groundings, ghosts out to take over his town or kick his ass… It had been complicated but it had been his life! Now it was all gone and he would give anything to have it back. He'd happily sit a thousand more detentions to be sitting down to breakfast with his family right now. He'd let Dash shove him into a million more lockers to be able to complain to his friends on the way to school afterwards. He'd fight every ghost he knew just to see his sister right this second!

He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to hold back his tears and stood. "Thanks for breakfast Mrs. Weasley." He all but whispered before turning and hastily leaving the room and his all but untouched sausage and eggs. He heard someone call for him but paid no mind to who it was or what they were saying, quickening his retreat to a jog and making his way back to his room. What he wouldn't give to be able to go ghost and fly right now. Flying always had a way of calming him down and helping him to sort through his turbulent thoughts. That damnable wall was still there, though, placed between him and his powers and still as impenetrable as it had been when it'd appeared.

He shut and locked the door once he'd made it to the room he'd slept in before approaching and collapsing upon his bed. Previously restrained tears were finally allowed to fall as he felt his insides breaking apart all over again. His body shook, quiet sobs and whimpers tearing themselves from his unwilling lips. He didn't _want_ to cry anymore. He'd thought he'd already cried himself dry just that night. Apparently, however, he was wrong. He could feel himself breaking into tiny little pieces. Everything hurt. Ron's words at the table had just driven home how out of place he was here and how very little he deserved to be protected by these people. Because of him, people had died. His family and friends had died. What made him think he deserved any sort of kindness or protection?

With a particularly painful throb in his chest he realized he had forgotten to ask about Jazz while he'd been down there. It was the only reason he'd gone down at all and he'd forgotten! What kind of brother was he?! But how could he go back down now? He curled onto his side, grabbing his pillow and clutching it to his chest. What was he supposed to do now? Everything seemed so hopeless; so dark and consuming and _painful_…

How on Earth was he supposed to get past the loss of everyone he loved?

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**I was sorta on the fence about leaving off right there, but I really only wanted to get in how Danny was taking all this in this chapter. Next chapter will have a bit more character interaction at the very least. And this is where I beg for your input, opinions, ideas, and other such things in the form of reviews! Think there's something I could have done better? Something you absolutely loved? Something that pissed you off? I wanna hear about it! Seriously! Every time I find out I have a new review I do a little happy dance. X3**

**Oh! And also, I occasionally put updates on this story or little notes about my progress on this story on my profile page. If you're feeling impatient for the next chapter or if I get a certain question asked repeatedly in reviews I'll write a little note on my profile to address it. :3**


	3. Conversations

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Danny Phantom are not mine. I doubt they'd be half as awesome if they were. v.v**

**Warnings: None for this chapter. It's all pretty tame.**

**Ok, since several people have asked, this is set during the Order of the Pheonix in the Potter-verse. I'd kind of assumed that was obvious given the setting. ^^; And Danny is still 14 here. I'll be disregarding most of the third season as far as Danny's time line goes. He'll still have his ice powers though. Just cause I love them and their possibilities.~ Ok, now that I've given you guys that bit of info, on with the fic!**

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Chapter 3: Conversations

Harry grit his teeth as he scrubbed at a patch of mold on the floor, his mind occupied by thoughts of the Order's conspicuous new charge. He, Hermione, and Ron had been tasked with cleaning and clearing out the second floor study today. His two friends went about their own tasks in silence but it was fairly clear that no one was focusing on what they were doing. The spot Harry had been scrubbing was beginning to get worn out from the attention he was giving it while his mind wandered.

Who was this new boy? What was he doing here? Why was everyone being so tight lipped about him? He'd gotten his name at breakfast but little else so far by way of actual information. There were a few conclusions he could probably come to just from observations, however, and he wasn't all that happy with the lines he was drawing. By the way Lupin and Mrs. Weasly spoke to him he could conclude that Danny had at least witnessed something pretty bad. Their looks had been fairly soaked with pity and sympathy after all. The more worrying thing, in Harry's mind at least, was that the boy was American. If the order had gone all the way to America to pick him up then it must have been a very big deal. Was Voldemort spreading across seas now? Or, if not that, then what else could be the reason?

And why did he have to make guesses anyway? Why weren't they _telling _him anything about this_? _Why weren't they telling him anything at all?! Didn't he deserve to be in the loop?! Dumbledore had been avoiding him since he arrived and before then he'd been deprived of any sort of information even from his friends! Plopping a whole new mystery right on top of everything else was almost unfair!

'_Nothing about this is fair!'_ Danny's earlier words echoed in his head, nearly making him wince.

He was jerked from his thoughts when a sliver came loose from the old wood under his scrub brush and embedded itself in his thumb. With a short grunt of pain he dropped the brush and brought the injured digit to his mouth. Hermione was next to him in seconds, gently taking his hand to inspect the damage as Ron turned to watch from his own section of the room.

"Looks like it's just a sliver. I can get it out for you but you should probably get some disinfectant on it as well." She said quietly before pulling out her wand to extract the sharp piece of wood.

"Why do you suppose he's here?" Harry asked, voicing the question on all of their minds. There was no need to clarify who 'he' was.

There was a quiet moment while Hermione released Harry's hand, once it was wood free of course, and stood back up to go back to the desk where she'd been clearing out drawers. "From what it sounded like, it must have been something horrible…" She muttered with a hint of sympathy, reiterating Harry's own thoughts.

"You don't know that." Ron called, turning to lean against the wall and temporarily abandoning the dust stained window he'd been scrubbing.. "For all we know he could be a plant of some sort sent to spy on us."

Hermione huffed in mild exasperation at the red head as she turned to chuck another item into the trash bag next to her on the floor. "Ron, really, do you actually think Dumbledore would allow such a thing to happen? Besides, don't you think Danny's rather young for something like that? He can't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old."

"I don't think there's an age limit for being a death eater." Ron grumped, arms crossing defensively across his chest.

"He was wearing short sleeves. We could see both his arms and there was no dark mark." Harry picked his scrub brush back up but made no move to continue his chore.

"I still say we can't trust him. Just look at how he acted at breakfast! Blowing up on us like that!"

"You mean blowing up on you." Hermione paused in her motions to turn and glare reprovingly at Ron. "And I can't say I blame him, as rude as you were. I thought he seemed rather nice until you set him off."

"_Rather nice?_ He practically bit mine and Harry's heads off!" Ron shot back looking a bit wounded.

"And how would you have reacted in his place?" the muggle born shot back heatedly, placing her hands on her hips.

Harry growled and stood, throwing his scrub brush to the floor harshly. "Would you two quit it! This isn't getting us anywhere!"

Ron looked torn between apologizing and continuing his tirade, a look on his face like he'd just swallowed a toad. Hermione just looked ashamed of herself. The awkward moment was interrupted by a short knock on the open door.

"Umm… Mum wanted me to let you three know that lunch was ready and that you could take a break." Ginny shuffled unsurely, obviously sensing the tense atmosphere in the room.

"Thanks Ginny. We'll be right down." Harry responded with a strained but polite smile. Perhaps he'd get the opportunity to ask a few more questions of Danny over lunch. He'd barely touched his breakfast after all. He had to be hungry enough to venture out of the room he'd shut himself up in since morning by now.

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As it turned out, Danny had not been hungry enough to venture out of his room for lunch. In fact, he hadn't ventured out of his room all day. Between Ron's complaining about the boy getting out of cleaning duty, Hermione's blatant concern, and the twins' overbearing curiosity, Harry was pretty well fed up with this new guest and the hype that surrounded him. Things had been strained enough with the Prophet's slandering of his name, his impending trial, and lets not forget the return of a certain dark lord that had him at the top of his kill list. He didn't have the mental fortitude to be dealing with this extra stress right now!

So, in search of answers to his questions, which would hopefully relieve some of that stress, he'd offered to take dinner up to the boy. Mrs. Weasly had assumed it was out of some kind of concern and had cooed her approval, repeatedly telling him what a sweet boy he was and fixing up a tray to take up almost immediately. He hadn't bothered to correct her. He had a feeling Sirius knew what he was up to, but the man hadn't said anything. It was possible he wanted him to find out what was going. Harry wished his godfather would just come out and tell him on his own, but he supposed it was one of those things he wasn't allowed to talk about. _'Well'_ Harry thought, _'I'll probably get better information from the source anyway.'_

It was for this reason that Harry currently found himself standing outside Danny's door with a bowl of beef stew, a glass of butterbeer and a slab of bread on a small tray, having knocked several times already and received no answer. He was beginning to think the boy had snuck off or something. His eye was beginning to twitch in irritation as he knocked yet again, calling through the door as he did so. "You know, whether you let me in or not, I _will_ be coming in."

He waited a few more minutes.

"Fine. Have it your way." He tried the door and found it locked. Not surprising. He pulled his wand and muttered a low 'alohomora', hearing the snick of the lock turning before stowing his wand once again in his pocket and turning the door knob.

The room he entered was only barely lit by the last few lights of day filtering in through the curtains, giving everything a dusky, shadowed hue. Despite the cool look to the room it felt stuffy, the smell of dust, mold, and cleaning agents thick on the air. Harry couldn't imagine spending an entire day shut up in this room. It was bad enough being confined to the house in general, but at least other sections of the house were a bit more open. Some rooms were even almost pleasant. This room, however, just felt depressing, but that might have just been due to the unmoving lump curled up on the bed.

"Danny-"

"Go away…" The lump's dull voice croaked hoarsely, interrupting whatever Harry had begun to say. The boy-who-lived was a bit put off by this but he was not about to be dissuaded.

"I brought your dinner." he informed blandly.

"Not hungry…" Came the same rough voice as the lump curled more tightly into itself. Yes, Harry decided, the depressing atmosphere definitely had more to do with the boy on the bed than anything else in the room. It couldn't have been more obvious that he'd been crying with a voice like that. Harry winced, wondering just what had reduced him to this state. Surely it hadn't been due to him and Ron from that morning. Ron hadn't been _that_ rude… Had he? But then… Given how careful the adults had been with their wording that morning, perhaps the boy was just really fragile? Harry got the feeling that wasn't the case, though. He'd seemed shy, yes, but he'd had a hard look about him, especially once he'd gotten angry. Fragile people didn't lash out like he had. It was more likely that it had something to do with what sent him here if he and Hermione's guesses were anywhere near the truth.

With a sigh Harry shut the door behind him then walked over and set the tray down on a bedside table before moving to sit on a nearby chair. The piece of furniture squeaked quietly as he settled in it.

He slumped forward, propping his elbows on his knees before hesitantly speaking, figuring if he got any unpleasantness out of the way first then Danny would be more willing to talk. "Listen, about this morning-"

"I'm sorry." Danny interrupted him again, voice so quiet and honest it left Harry a bit floored. "I didn't mean to blow up on you and your friend."

"It's-.. I mean-…" Harry struggled "…I'm sorry too." He managed, the words feeling a bit hollow and entirely inadequate for some reason. "We could have handled the situation better."

There was a snort from the bed before Danny uncurled and turned over to face Harry, his head resting lazily on the pillow. His eyes seemed so dull as to almost be gray in the dim lighting. There was a pain in them that Harry was surprised he hadn't recognized earlier, perhaps having been too caught up in his curiosity and suspicions. His skin also seemed way too pale; like he was sick. His expression would have seemed blank if not for the slight pinch to his brow, looking vaguely accusatory.

"You didn't come in here to make nice… Did you." The way he said it, making it sound like more of a resigned statement rather than a question, made Harry suddenly feel unaccountably guilty; like he'd just been caught kicking puppies. Harry frowned, not liking the feeling at all but unwilling to do anything about it. He came in here for information and information was what he was going to get. There were more important things going on than some strange boy's feelings.

Steeling himself, he sat up a little straighter and built up his determination, pushing his guilt to the side for now. "I need to know what you're doing here. Only members of the order and sympathizers are allowed here. You're obviously neither. Why did Dumbledore bring you here all the way from America?" He didn't exactly expect a straight answer, but any response would open open the gate; give him something to work with, to interpret.

Danny's face twisted like he'd just eaten something nasty then he turned away, rolling back over onto his other side and leaving his back to Harry. He responded, voice laced with bitterness, "You don't _need_ to know. You _want_ to know. If you _needed_ to know then someone would have told you."

"I _deserve_ to know!" Harry growled, anger peeking through again and giving way to his real frustrations about the whole matter, "I have more right to know than anyone! Every year for the past four years I've had to face Voldemort! I was there when he rose again! If it weren't for me then no one would even know that he was back! And yet nobody will bloody well _tell_ me _anything_!"

In a fit of his own anger, Danny sat up straight from his bed, turning to glare viscously at the boy who lived. "You want to know so bad?!" He snarled, "Fine then! I'm here because your jerkface dark lord sent his lackeys to _my_ town, in _my_ country, and slaughtered my friends and family! Murdered them in cold blood right in front of me!" Danny's voice cracked, almost choking on those last words as tears poured from his eyes for what obviously was not the first time since he'd arrived here. His rage was seemingly unable to stand under the weight of his grief as any anger drained away, leaving behind such soul wrenching sorrow that Harry didn't have the slightest clue on how to respond. He could only stare in muted shock and horror at what he'd just learned. "Mr. Lupin popped up out of nowhere and got me out of there. He apparently couldn't do the same for my sister. I don't even know if she's alive or not…" He trailed off brokenly. The silence stretched on uncomfortably for a few moments, Harry unsure of how to respond. He wasn't even sure why he was so shacked. He'd at least half expected something like this after all.

"Is your curiosity satisfied now?" The American asked with a tired, empty and shaking voice, face angled down, his shaggy black hair hanging over his shadowed eyes.

Harry flinched as though he'd been struck, that guilty feeling in his stomach multiplying tenfold and suddenly he realized why it was so hard to respond to the boy. What was one supposed to say in the face of such raw pain and misery? Green eyes finding his own feet he sought to give what little comfort he could. "I-I'm sorry. Voldemort killed my parents too…" He knew this pain. He knew how badly it hurt… And he'd just reopened an already fresh wound on this boy by forcing him to confess to it. No wonder the adults had been speaking so gently with him. He'd gone through something truly horrendous, and Ron had implied that he didn't even deserve to be here. Looking at it from this new perspective it might have even sounded like Ron had told Danny _he_ should have died… Harry was feeling smaller and smaller by the second.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. I suppose I'll just join the club then, huh? Do we get jackets? Membership cards?" Danny replied, bitter sarcasm heavy in every word. Harry was about to get angry again before he saw the other boy's face flush with guilt at his own words.

"Sorry…" Danny muttered, reaching up to wipe at his wet eyes.

Harry deflated before he'd even had a chance to get worked up again. Though Danny's mood swings were a bit irritating, he could understand why he was going through them. If anyone could understand, it would be Harry. He sighed. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked…"

Danny glanced up at him, eyes searching, scrutinizing. Harry wasn't sure what he was looking for, nor could he tell if the other boy found it or not, but after a few seconds his expression relaxed a bit, his shoulders drooping from their tense position.

Danny sighed, lifting a hand to push through his thick black bangs before continuing to the back of his neck to rub nervously, further disheveling the mess of hair on his head. "It's… It's ok I guess…"

"Listen, losing people you love, that pain won't ever go away, but it gets easier to handle." Harry offered. It would have been hypocritical to suggest the other boy just pick himself back up after this. Harry himself was still reeling after Cedric's death after all, and that was months ago now. He hadn't even known Cedric all that well… Danny gave him an appreciative look for the words, so he supposed he'd said _something _right at least.

For a moment, the silence was almost comfortable, but then Danny's stomach gave a loud, demanding growl, reminding both boys that He hadn't had any more than a bite of eggs all day. A dark blush could just barely be made out on his face in the now rather dark room. Sometime during their conversation, the sun had finished setting without either of their notice, casting the room in shadow with the faintest of light coming from the moon outside.

"I suppose I'll leave you to eat then, shall I? I expect you know where the kitchen is to take your dishes down when you're done?" Harry stood from his seat, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Y-yeah…" Danny stammered, finally taking the food from the bedside stand and starting in on the stew. He seemed surprised that the food was still warm. Harry figured Mrs. Weasly must have cast a warming charm on it, predicting that Danny wouldn't eat right away.

Harry quickly strode to the door, pausing before he left. "I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow?" He asked, turning to look the other boy in the eye hopefully. Danny stared back, contemplating, before he hesitantly nodded. Harry found himself smiling at the boy before he turned and left the room.

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**-Groans- Why?... Why did I decide to do a chapter in Harry's point of view? ~ That was a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated it to be… I finished it though. Go me? ^^;**

**Send me a review if you've got the time! I'd love to know what you think! How was my characterization? I don't have the best handle on the HP characters, so I'd love some constructive input. **

**And to anyone who may think Danny is being too mopey, or too much of a cry baby… **_**His loved ones died! It's only been a day so far! And he's still just a kid for crying out loud!**_** Sorry, just figured I'd nip that one in the bud. Lol **

**Till next time!~**


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